


The Inevitable Shrink Ray

by Rubynye



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Body Dysphoria, M/M, Pre-Serum, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Size Difference, Transformation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-09
Updated: 2014-07-09
Packaged: 2018-02-08 03:56:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1925841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rubynye/pseuds/Rubynye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I missed a dodge, got hit with a shrink ray, and stripped of the serum. What exactly do you think you're gonna break?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Inevitable Shrink Ray

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dsudis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dsudis/gifts).



In Sam's defense, he wakes up to his own voice saying, "I thought you'd need to sleep," his dick swelling at the feel of a naked warm body between him and the blanket, his whole body reacting before his brain gets online.

Steve growls at him anyway, sharp elbows denting the pillow either side of Sam's head. "On the medical floor? Do you know me?" He's got the same deep voice, if a little thinner and less resonant, the same silk-smooth skin laced with long golden hairs at forearms and calves, but less dense under Sam's hand, more fragile over knobby vertebrae and delicate ribs.

Sam rubs the sleep from his eyes and blinks up at Steve's beautiful frown, his bottom lip jutting as he jabs his knees into Sam's ribs. "Oof, hey, okay, you don't like hospital rooms, I get it, but you should still be monitored --"

"Jarvis?" Steve calls, tossing his head up on a long thin neck, smooth-stick collarbones meeting at the prettiest little notch, and Sam is not awake enough to deal with both Steve's newly breakable beauty and Stark's disembodied computer butler.

Dropping his arm across his eyes, Sam groans at the smooth British-accented, "Yes, Captain Rogers?"

"Please log my vital signs once every… five minutes." Even if he's not looking, he can still feel Steve sitting on him, long narrow thighs and taut little ass.

Still, priorities. "Every sixty seconds," Sam interrupts, and gets another puppy-growl and sharp-kneed squeeze for it.

"Yes, sirs," Jarvis answers, and if he had a body Sam would swear he was laughing at them.

"Come on, Sam." Gripping his wrist in both thin-fingered hands, Steve shoves it off Sam's face, pinning it to the pillow, leaning over him. "Come on. I'm still your Steve."

 _More or less,_ Sam doesn't say, blinking up at Steve's determined face. "You're still stubborn and pretty, so I guess you are."

Steve's eyes light up, deep blue in the dimness, he purses his lips and he's so fucking adorable Sam physically can't hold back a smile. "So you still want me, right?"

"How could I not?" He wiggles his fingers invitingly, spreading his hand out across Steve's back. "Like I could ever stop."

Steve smiles then, that sweet earnest grin, exactly the same. "That's good to know." The determination's still full strength, too, as he presses harder on Sam's pinned wrist, leaning in until the ends of his hanging hair brush Sam's forehead. "Then fuck me already."

"Jesus," is the first thing Sam can say to Steve, just out of kissing distance and barely heavier than the blanket. "Is that what you woke me up for?"

"Not like _you_ need beauty sleep," Steve smacks a quick kiss on Sam's nose, pulling up before Sam can catch his mouth. "You never minded before."

He sure hasn't ever minded Steve waking him up with nookie, his dick twitching at the happy memories, but Steve was always bigger than him, broad and hard and hot and nope, not saying that. "I don't mind, I just--" Sam strokes Steve's knobby, silky back, down to the curved dimples over his narrow little ass and up again to his close-cropped nape. "Didn't want to make anything worse."

Steve laughs sharply, bitterly, looking down at nothing, at himself. "I missed a dodge, got hit with a shrink ray, and stripped of the serum. What exactly do you think you're gonna break?" He looks up again, eyes narrow with challenge. "Not me. Don't you dare even think it."

"Okay, okay." Sam opens his palm and tips up his chin in surrender. "Goddamn, you're pushy."

"Always had to be." His smile shrinks, little and sad, and Sam's heart aches under Steve's small weight, his mouth waters with with wanting to kiss him. "It's not so long ago for me, you know. Not like I forgot." Steve leans in close, so close, his breath curling warm along Sam's cheeks. "C'mon, please, I'm asking nicely. Fuck me."

"Well, since you're being polite -- " Sam tips his chin up a little more, and Steve settles that last inch, kissing him with that same sweet mouth, squeezing his wrist with those thin fingers. Sam presses the kiss deeper and Steve shudders at the first flicker of tongue, just as he always does, but without all his muscle and sinew to dampen the vibration his fine bones just about rattle. Sam slowly tightens his hold, catching his breath to listen carefully to Steve's -- asthma's on the list -- and wonders if Barnes ever felt this way. He must have, holding this stubborn precious asshole in his arms, trying to be careful without being obvious about it. Steve lets Sam's wrist go and cups his face instead, and Sam wraps his freed arm across Steve's surprisingly broad shoulders, wanting to roll him to the mattress, to explore all the fewer inches of him, to kiss and stroke him until he arches and smiles and passes out, but that's not what Steve asked for.

Instead Sam cups Steve's cheek in his palm, sharp cheekbone and narrowed jaw, and murmurs over his tender lips, "Yeah, okay, but you're doing the work."

Steve presses his spreading grin to Sam's cheek, bites his chin to make him laugh and tosses himself over to the bedside table. Sam turns enough to watch him reach and rummage, the spread of his long slender thighs, the subsurface shift of his winglike shoulder blades. He's still Steve and he's still so gorgeous Sam sometimes can't believe he's real.

Steve glances back over his square sharp shoulder, his mouth curving into a sweet little frown. "I know I'm…" He pauses to properly phrase his self-deprecation, and Sam gives into temptation and dives into the opening, kissing that frown off Steve's mouth, pulling him close as he lays them back down. "C'mere," Sam murmurs, reaching for the lube Steve's holding, but Steve jerks away from him with a stiff-armed push, a gasp and a shudder. "What?"

"Oh no you don't," Steve puffs, still a little winded from shoving himself up so fast, shifting back on his knees to settle his pert little ass against Sam's dick. "You'll work me over with those big fingers until I come so hard my brain melts." He smirks openmouthed, pointing the tube at Sam like an accusing forefinger as he flicks it open.

"Well," Sam says, pressing his hand over his wounded heart, "that sounds just awful." Not exactly inaccurate, though.

Steve's eyes glint as he reaches back, curling his fingers in a tight slick stroke, wringing a gasp from Sam. "Actually, it's wonderful, and you know it. But right now I want you to fuck me."

Right now Sam really wants to fuck Steve too, with his pretty little smirk and his thin clever fingers and his pale slender everything, but there's enough blood left in his brain that he has to ask, "Why?" the word half a breathless moan.

Steve's eyes go wide, somehow seemingly even bigger. "Why?" He plants his dry hand on Sam's belly, tracing fingertips along his abs. "Besides your good looks and endearing charms?" As he rolls his eyes, Sam braces his hands on Steve's thighs, and Steve's smile widens but his eyes narrow to fierceness. "Because you're my lover," he explains, hitting the possessive hard, and Sam's answering shiver is all glad agreement. "Because after today I want… I wanna know how much bigger you're gonna feel now that I'm little again," and there's no deprecation this time, just a naughty tilt of eyebrows, a shudder under Sam's hands and the wet slick sound of Steve fingering himself as he leans forwards, his long lashes fluttering but not falling. "Because I want you."

"And you got me." Sam rubs Steve's trembling thighs, pulling his knees up to give him a backrest. "Easy, go easy, we've got all night, and you got me." He'd trade stroke for stroke but Steve's pressing his other hand over his dick, and Sam's learned to follow Steve's plans even when he can't see the next step. Steve grins and presses harder with both hands, and he always tells the truth but there's more under this than what he let on, but… Steve's reddening deeply enough to see in the dimness, across his cheekbones and shoulders, spilling down his skin, and Sam's only human. He watches Steve rock back and forth on his own fingers, countable ribs rising and falling, and breathes against each throb of desire as he hangs on.

When Steve stops Sam shoves up an eyebrow with skepticism he doesn't really feel. "You sure that's enough?" he makes himself ask.

"I won't break," is all the answer he expected and exactly what he gets, so he watches Steve reach for the dropped condom packet, impatiently flicking his hair up off his forehead as he bites it open. Steve twists around picturesquely to unroll it onto Sam's dick, his fingers' firm stroke making Sam's balls tighten and his abs clench. Steve rocks up and back, digging his knees into the mattress, and when Sam slides his hands to Steve's narrow waist Steve grips his wrists, damp fingers overlapping around them, and breathes, "I promise," as he bears down, taking Sam inside him.

Sam would say a thousand things but he's holding his breath, heat flickering all over his skin as he feels Steve, impossibly even tighter, unfurling around the head of his dick; Steve pushes stubbornly, trembling, his breath hitching, till there's an almost audible pop and he smiles openmouthed, panting, as Sam's ribs unlock, letting him gasp.

Then Steve knocks Sam's breath out again with one huge shove, throwing his head back with a guttural cry as he pushes down as far as he can go, a rippling squeeze engulfing Sam tip to balls as Steve shudders above him, breath gone ragged. "Steve," Sam chokes out, his dick throbbing happily inside snug heat, his heart aching with worry, "Steve, c'mon --?"

Steve pats Sam's belly, long throat bobbing as he swallows hard, and tips his head forward so Sam can see his crinkle-cornered eyes and wide gasping grin, can relax and smile back. "God damn," Steve mumbles, the curse from his proper polite mouth twisting lust deeper into Sam, "you're fucking huge." He sounds all Brooklyn, young and careless, and Sam can't even stand how good this is. He pushes up on one hand to pull Steve in for another kiss, curving his palm to Steve's damp nape. Steve groans into it, rocking his hips up and down, and Sam shoves up to sitting so he can wrap Steve up in both arms, so he can feel every bit of him as Steve folds slender legs around his waist and wiry arms around his neck, tensing rhythmically around him, arching so pebbled nipples brush his chest.

Steve's cock prods Sam as they thrust against each other, smearing wet over his belly. He peels an arm free, gropes for the lube and squeezes out a palmful, and wraps his hand around Steve, letting him fuck his fist; Steve gasps over his lips, untucks his calves to dig his heels into the bed, and bounces harder, his balls dragging along Sam's wrist on each upstroke, his insides rippling around Sam's dick on each slam down. Sam gives up a groan each time he bottoms out, driven out of him by the force of pleasure, and Steve dents his bottom lip with sweet-sharp teeth and echoes every noise right back into him.

His skin burning wet everywhere it slides against Steve's, all his nerves blazing and his pulse surging with Steve's every flex around his dick, Sam doesn't have much left to think with, but he can't help remembering when Steve rode him before, a tower of sculpted muscle instead of slender and fierce, pressing down on his shoulders instead of tucked against his chest. But so much is the same, Steve's sunshine heat and stubbornness, his clean musk and deep openmouthed moans, the slick obscene sound of each thrust as he drives himself harder than he should. Sam has to stroke Steve wherever he can reach, trailing experimental fingers under Steve's ear, down over his rib-ridged back to the base of his spine, skipping to behind his sinewy knee, all the spots he's learned.

Steve shudders harder with each caress, chest stuttering a little alarmingly as he kisses Sam desperately like he's trying to drink the air out of him. Longing to kiss Steve everywhere he just touched, Sam moans because he can't babble about how amazing Steve feels now and always, because Steve won't let up the ongoing kiss, fucking San's mouth with his tongue as he fucks himself on Sam's dick at a flying gallop. Dragged along breathlessly, Sam half thinks he should slow them down, ease this down, something, but Steve's moaning around his tongue and shimmying in his hold, limber and sweat-slick, as they rocket forward together, accelerating past free fall, faster and harder on every heated thrust.

For the first time in a long time Sam's blindsided by coming, gripped from dick to toes to scalp by sweeping pulses, the ecstasy threaded through his blood pulling into a knot and shattering into a million electric sparks. He shouts over Steve's lips and Steve cries out into his mouth, digging hard fingers into Sam's shoulders as he rides Sam's orgasm up to his own, shouting wordlessly and fluttering so tight Sam hazily thinks he might get stuck, that he might not mind. After a long shivering moment, Steve's arms fall from around his neck, Steve flops back against his raised knees, and Sam lets himself slump onto his elbows, then flat on his back, for a couple minutes of intense oxygen consumption and trembling afterglow. The room's dark and quiet around them, Sam's head blasted empty except for the echoes of Steve's puffing breaths and his own heartbeat thumping in his ears.

Eventually Steve exhales an "oof" and grips Sam's knees to pull himself up, and Sam hisses, a little overstimulated, as he slips out. Steve drops sideways onto one knee, peels the condom off and tosses it into the trashcan, swipes his fingers on the sheet and drops backwards onto Sam's chest. Sam chuckles and wraps an arm across his collarbones, a loose easy hold; with a miniature sort of happy rumble, Steve shoves his damp head up under Sam's chin, and they lie there for awhile, not counting the minutes.

Eventually, Sam's ability to think wells back up. He wonders if he should check Steve out and make sure he didn't overdo it, or ask the ghost robot butler for a report on his vitals, but Steve's breathing easily, contentedly, and would probably get grumpy if Sam tried. He wonders if Bruce needs to hear about this in the morning while updating Steve's treatment protocol, and smiles as he blinks slowly at the ceiling. He wonders what Steve didn't say, what he should know, and that's what gets Sam to ask gently, "So, are you gonna tell me what this was about?"

Steve blows out a gusty breath and rolls over, tucking his cheek to Sam's chest and his legs alongside Sam's thigh. "Besides what I said before?" His voice is low and deep and familiar, and Sam could almost imagine the Steve he first met broad and solid beside him, but the Steve with him is a pleasantly light pressure on his chest and long fingers spread out over his heart. "I knew… after a good pounding I'd feel like I fit inside my skin again." Steve's cheek pulls up into a smile, and Sam chuckles agreement at how much sense that makes. "That's kind of selfish, I know. I'm sorry."

"Oh, come on." Sam drapes his hand over Steve's head, threading fingers into his hair. "No it's not." Steve concedes a soft laugh. "Besides, you're due a little selfishness, if you ask me. I'm happy to provide."

Steve tilts his face up to kiss Sam's chin, and when Sam tips his down, Steve squirms up to kiss his mouth. "Thank you," Steve murmurs to him, eyes huge and luminous in the night. "For being wonderful."

"Yep, I am," Sam agrees, and pulls Steve back up to return the kiss with interest. Smiling drowsily, Steve tucks his head between Sam's neck and shoulder, Sam drags the blanket back up over them, and that's how they go back to sleep.

\--V-- 

In Steve's defense, when the pain in his leg first wakes him up, he thinks it's just the sort of cramp he used to get sometimes. It seems less present than the pleasant radiant soreness inside him; Sam's sound asleep, both arms wrapped around him, and all Steve wants to do is wait out the cramp and sleep again, snug and warm in Sam's secure hold, until the morning arrives and he has to start thinking about what to do with his new old self.

But the twitching pain grows and spreads, up his calves into his thighs, up his spine and across his shoulders, all over until even his jaw prickles with a rising ache and his mind starts to fog over. When he gasps helplessly Sam jerks awake, eyes wide and worried, sees Steve's clenched teeth and balled fists, and asks, "Can you breathe?"

Steve still can, his ribs shivering but not stuck. He nods, and Sam scoops him up in both arms, pulling the blanket with them, standing as he hollers for Jarvis.

Everything goes mercifully quickly from there, as most of the team bursts in. Tony and Bruce arrive wearing the bottom and top halves respectively of the same blue rocketship pajamas, and Steve would smile if his teeth weren't chattering; they pull a stretcher from a hidden wall panel and load him onto it, and the last sight Steve has of Sam he's being gently restrained by Natasha and Pepper, each taking an arm and a blanket corner as they pull him back into the bedroom and Clint shuts the door.

Steve tells himself he's relieved that Sam's being taken care of, but he clutches the stretcher's sides as Bruce and Tony bounce him down the hall, finding them a poor substitute for Sam's strong hands. At least this way Sam doesn't have to listen to him in pain.

"I'm pretty sure we can fix this," Bruce tells Steve through the swimming haze. Steve nods and lets Tony's chatter wash over him as they strap him to a meshwork table, tip it upright, wrap thick black cloth over his eyes, and hurry out again, their footsteps fading quickly. Steve goes back to concentrating on his breathing, holding it steady against the whimpers trying to leak out, in and five and out and five.

Then the gamma rays hit, a thousand sunburns over every inch of skin.

Steve remembers his first transformation, Howard's capsule and Dr. Erskine's calm, remembers how his body tore itself apart and reformed under the influence of the serum and the barrage of gamma rays. It fucking hurt, it hurts now, but Steve got through it before and now he knows what to expect. It won't take so long, he reminds himself as his bones shatter and heal and shatter again, as his muscles thicken and lengthen, cramping rigidly as they expand, as his heart batters his ribs. It's not so long. And he lets himself scream.

When the pain stops its absence is almost as wonderful as another orgasm; the wave of endorphins crashes down so forcefully Steve actually moans, shivering under it like he did in Sam's arms. The table tips down to horizontal as he gasps, his lungs deep and efficient again, footsteps rush towards him, quick hands unstrap and unblindfold him, and Bruce and Tony grin triumphantly at each other as they help him up. It's kind of hilarious, but Steve's a little too wrecked to comment; he slumps into the hospital bed they wheeled up and shuts his eyes as they tuck him in.

It feels like just a blink, but when Steve lifts his heavy eyelids again he's under a different, dimmer ceiling, an IV in his forearm, a monitor beeping behind him and Sam sitting beside him wrapped in one of the ridiculously opulent maroon-and-gold robes taking up space in their bedroom closet. On Sam it just looks good. He's tired around the eyes, lids crinkled and drooping, but his smile is sweet and true.

"Hey," Sam murmurs, "on your right," and Steve smiles helplessly, turning his hand palm up.

Sam settles his hand onto Steve's, and Steve grabs hold. "Sorry about waking you up again."

"The first time was more fun," Sam teases. "How're you feeling?"

"Okay, tired. Guess I'm back in the suit." Sam's forehead creases, and Steve waves his free hand at himself. "This, my old new self, I mean. Sometimes it feels more like something I'm wearing than who I am. Yesterday I got to take it off for a little while." Sam nods, squeezing his hand, and Steve shuts his eyes against his next words, but if he can say them to anyone… "I'd planned to plan, in the morning, what to do with my new old little self."

"You still can," Sam says, and Steve smiles at Sam's warm voice, into the darkness beneath his eyelids. "Whatever you want to do."

Steve spares a moment to wonder just what it is he would have done, and comes up blank. "Nah. I was given this tool to use, I can't abandon that responsibility now."

Sam snorts eloquently. Steve looks up at his deeply dubious expression, eyebrow hoisted high like he read all of Steve's thoughts; delighted to be understood, Steve grins until Sam breaks into another beautiful smile as he laughs. "You know," he says slowly, lifting his free hand to Steve's cheek, "I have to say, I found out something worth knowing." Curious, Steve watches Sam's eyebrows draw down sharply, his dark eyes sparkling as he explains, "How goddamn beautiful you've always been. The photos didn't do you justice."

It's Steve's turn to roll his eyes, mostly because he knows Sam means it. He takes a breath to point out that most people like the current him better, but Sam slips a broad finger across his mouth. "Yeah, I know what you're thinking. But I don't want to hear it. And I think I get now why you weren't quite as upset as I expected."

Sam slides his finger back off Steve's lips, and Steve presses his hand over Sam's on his cheek. "Permission to speak?" he asks pointedly.

"Granted, Captain." Sam chuckles.

"I'm not sorry," Steve tells Sam, and himself. "I volunteered for this, and I would again. But, yeah, I didn't mind the breather, not least to appreciate what I've got now. And I can't help wondering…. if it would've helped, for Buck to have seen me like I was before."

Sam's smile quiets into something thoughtful, but doesn't fade, and Steve's more thankful for that than he can put into words. "Either way it seems to help a little more each time he sees your pretty face." Sam's about to continue when he surprises them both with a huge yawn.

Or, really, it's not that surprising. "Come on, get in," Steve manages, then promptly yawns too.

Sam ducks under the IV line and settles along Steve's side, warm and solid and perfect. Steve curls a little into him and shuts his heavy eyes, and that's how they go back to sleep for what's left of the night (and half the morning too).

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry, Thor! I guess you must be off investigating the shrink ray tech, or having a threesome with Jane and Darcy, or something else outside the Tower.


End file.
